


on normalcy, friendship, and breakfast (a story from floor 6)

by everythingFangirl



Series: when I'm with you, I can only be me (stories from the victors' tower) [8]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Lunch Club, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Bad Puns, Fanfiction of Fanfiction, Friendship, Gen, not to mention synonyms for laughter, seriously i had to google to find enough puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23368015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythingFangirl/pseuds/everythingFangirl
Summary: Things aren’t back to normal. They can never really go back to normal. But Charlie wishes that he could get back just a sliver of what had been, who he had been before- before he-He can’t bear to finish that thought.So he shoves off his blanket, and changes his clothes, and goes to breakfast.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: when I'm with you, I can only be me (stories from the victors' tower) [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1715008
Comments: 15
Kudos: 153
Collections: victors' tower canon works





	on normalcy, friendship, and breakfast (a story from floor 6)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WreakingHavok](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WreakingHavok/gifts).
  * Inspired by [where there's smoke (floor 5)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22561558) by Anonymous. 



> A one-shot inspired by WreakingHavok's AU, focusing on Charlie bonding with the other Victors after first joining floor 6. I thought it would be fun to add on to this universe that other creators have worked on, so I hope this fits!
> 
> I've tried my best to be respectful of these creators' boundaries, so there's no shipping or violence here, and if this makes anyone uncomfortable or crosses any lines I'll happily take it down.

Charlie wants to hate floor six. 

There are some things about that he does hate. He hates being confined, not able to go anywhere, barely even able to get any fresh air. He yearns to go out for even five minutes, just to be somewhere that isn’t in the middle of a crowded city or surrounded by four walls. He misses the sound of wind rustling through leaves, twigs snapping under his feet, the quiet lull of conversation as he and his friends walk through the forests of District Seven. 

He hates his room, overly large and overly opulent and barely even seeming like it’s meant to be lived in. Even the handful of personal belongings he has scattered around it aren’t enough to break that feeling, even when he tears down the paintings and rearranges the furniture over and over and over again. 

But there are some things he can’t bring himself to dislike. No matter how much he had expected to detest the other Victors, he can’t do it. All of them had been through exactly what he had, hell, they might be the only people in the world who could come close to understanding Charlie’s own experiences. So he can’t bear to waste energy on hating them. None of them had deserved what they got, and none of them deserve to be hated by him. There were other things much more deserving of that honor. 

But that doesn’t mean he can get along with them. 

And when Charlie’s lying in bed, having barely gotten any rest over a fitful night’s sleep, he finds himself too tired to hate, too tired to regret. He’s tired of repeating those same words to himself over and over again, tired of thinking about how he wishes that none of this had happened, how the system deserves to be torn down, how he hadn’t deserved to win or how someone else should have taken his place, how he wouldn’t want anyone else to have to go through what he did. He just finds himself aching to go home. To go back to normal. 

Things aren’t back to normal. They can never really go back to normal. But Charlie wishes that he could get back just a sliver of what had been, who he had been before- before he- 

He can’t bear to finish that thought. 

So he shoves off his blanket, and changes his clothes, and goes to breakfast. 

~

There are three people in the kitchen already when he approaches it. Ted is at the counter cooking something, as he usually does, while Alex and Cooper sit side-by-side at the table. Nobody speaks a word, but there’s a sense of familiarity and closeness in the comfortable silence, in the way Cooper and Alex slightly lean towards each other, in the soft tune Ted is humming while he cooks. 

Charlie has been here for just over a week. He doesn’t belong in this world that the previous Victors have built for themselves, despite everybody telling him that he should. All of them have known each other for years, found a place with each other, and Charlie just feels like a wrench in the gears. He doesn’t know if he will ever truly belong somewhere like that again, like he did at home, like he did with - 

He doesn’t even want to think of their names. 

So it’s no wonder that the sense of comfort in the room shatters as soon as he steps over the threshold. It’s not a major difference, but he sees the way Cooper straightens his spine and Ted falls silent and Alex doesn’t look at him when he approaches the table. 

Cooper breaks the silence with a “good morning” that Charlie responds in kind with. Ted turns to him with a smile that still seems a little forced. “How do you like your eggs, Charlie?”

“Uh, fried, I guess? I’m not picky.”

Ted nods and turns back to his cooking, and they lapse back into silence. Eventually, Cooper turns back to Alex to discuss something or other relating to their Twitch streams, which Charlie tunes out. Occasionally, he catches Alex glancing at him with something like pity in his eyes, but his gaze flits away quickly enough that he may have just imagined it. 

The awkwardness in the room is momentarily interrupted by the clink of Ted setting a plate in front of Charlie. “One plate of fried eggs. Enjoy.” 

There’s a collection of vegetables scattered around the side of the plate. The slices of tomato and cucumber look just as glossy and perfect as all food in the Capitol seems to be, but the two fried eggs just look… normal. When Charlie takes a small bite, they taste normal, too. Ted isn’t an outstanding cook by any means, but in a way Charlie is glad for it. There’s something enticing about imperfection in the opulent reality of the Capitol. 

Someone in the room clears their throat. “So, uh, Charlie. How have you been settling in?” Alex says. “Have you… been sleeping well?”

Charlie pushes one of the eggs around his plate, inwardly wincing at the awkward tone of Alex's voice. But when he looks down at his hands, an idea sparks in his mind. It’s half-hearted at best, he knows it probably won’t work, but he inhales and responds, “I don’t know. I guess I’ve just been having a bit of an _egg_ sistential crisis lately.”

The room falls silent. 

For a moment, anxiety grips Charlie. Did he say something wrong? But when raises his eyes to Alex's, he just seems bewildered. And something in the corners of his mouth suggests a smile. 

“Was that a… was that a pun?”

“Y-yeah.”

Someone scoffs. Charlie sees Cooper lean his face into his hand, but he’s smiling. "Oh, solstices," Alex whines, but in a moment he's snickering as well. 

Charlie can’t help the smile that begins to grow on his own face. “Well, who knows. I gotta say, I’m kind of regretting not talking to you more. I’m _egg_ cited to get to know you guys better.”

Alex releases a bark of laughter, dropping his knife and fork on his plate, and Cooper chuckles quietly. Ted groans a halfhearted “oh my god” and continues to work at the kitchen counter. 

“What?” Charlie is grinning now, unable to stop himself. “You guys are enjoying this, it’s just _egg_ ing me on!”

He doesn’t know what triggers it, but Cooper and Alex collapse into fits of laughter, food entirely forgotten in front of them. Charlie’s own giggles join them. How long had it been since he had laughed like this? How long had it been since any of them had? 

Ted turns around, fighting his own grin. “Seriously? That wasn’t even that good of a joke.”

Charlie attempts to control his breathing as he pokes his finger at the carton of milk sitting on the table. “I guess I’m just _milk_ ing this situation for all it’s worth, Ted.”

“Oh my fucking god…” Ted leans onto the table, head in his hands, as he starts laughing as well. Cooper and Alex are in fits at this point, Alex nearly falling off his chair, and Charlie dissolves into cackling as well. Ted’s right, it isn’t even that good of a joke, but there’s something freeing about just being able to laugh without worrying, about something that doesn’t even matter. For a moment, the people around him don’t feel like threats, or victims of tragedy, or strangers. Not quite friends yet, not quite a family, but there’s something there. 

Over the continuing laughter, Charlie hears a quiet “what the hell?” When he turns around, Noah is standing at the doorway, looking bewildered. Charlie raises a hand in a shaky wave, then points to the basket of fruits on a counter. “Sorry, we’re kind of going _bananas_ over here.”

The room explodes in another wave of laughter. Noah rolls his eyes and walks back out again, but Charlie doesn’t miss the smirk appearing on his face as well. Cooper is nearly bent double, Ted has taken off his glasses and is holding his face on his hands, and Alex is smiling at Charlie through fits of laughter. Genuinely smiling, perhaps for the first time in his presence.

It’s true that things could never quite go back to normal. But maybe this won’t be so bad after all.


End file.
